I fixed a spreadsheet after hours. The next day, my head of talent explained why I should have left it alone.
Two people were struggling to agree on which date applied to a client engagement. There were a few rules to account for, some confusion, and more discussion than I thought the problem deserved. I knew how to calculate it, so I added the formulas.
Done. One less thing for everyone to argue about. Right?
That was my perspective, anyway.
From hers, we had already agreed on a plan. The people involved were going to talk through the disagreement. The Technology & Innovation team, which we recently stood up, could have built the calculator. The team had an opportunity to resolve an issue, understand the requirements, and own the result.
Then I went around that plan and solved it myself.
I saw a problem now resolved. She saw another example of me taking over.

This wasn’t our first conversation on this topic.
A couple of weeks earlier, our leadership team had challenged me on brand ownership. We now have a designated brand manager, yet I continued to maintain full ownership over our company brands. There were standards I had established earlier, before we created the brand manager position, and I felt I knew them, and how to uphold them, better than anyone.
Their point was that ownership gets confusing when the CEO keeps reaching back in. Someone has responsibility on paper, but everyone still has to account for what I might decide or react to what I might do.
What the team is asking for is perfectly reasonable: Set clear expectations, let us make decisions, and hold us accountable. When we struggle, let our managers manage. Give us the space to learn so we don't need you next time.
They also want something from me that they can’t produce on their own.
Where are we taking the company next year?
Are we starting another agency?
What should finance prepare for?
What people will we need?
Which priorities matter enough to organize the year around?
Those decisions affect everyone’s work. While I’m fixing something that’s right in front of me, they’re waiting for direction about what comes next.
I understand their point of view. I also find parts of it incredibly frustrating.
A big reason this company exists at its current size is that I made things happen. Over the past decade, I saw problems, figured them out, and kept moving. When something stalled, I removed the obstacle. My ability and willingness to get involved have directly contributed to our current size and scope.
So when someone tells me to leave an obvious problem alone, it can feel like being asked to stop doing the thing that made me useful.
I can fix this in ten minutes. Why are we spending hours discussing who should fix it instead? Why wait days for them to get to it when I can knock it out right now?
I raised that with my COO. He recognized the frustration immediately. He still gets pulled into client situations and jumps into work when he sees delays. We both know the satisfaction of getting something unstuck. We also worry about building a company where following the process takes precedence over getting a result.
That concern is real. I don’t want growth to turn us into a bureaucracy.
But I’m starting to see how easily that concern becomes my justification for staying involved in too much.
Every individual intervention has a reasonable explanation. Taken together, they leave the team unsure how much authority they actually have. That doubt contributes to them not taking the initiative that I want them to take. Those interventions also keep pulling my attention toward work I already know how to do.
That’s the cognitive dissonance of learning to be a CEO.
I want a company that can operate without my constant involvement, but I keep finding good reasons to involve myself.
I want, at the same time, to not have to do the work and mourn the fact that the kind of work I gravitate towards no longer needs me.
The work I can finish tonight feels concrete. Setting direction for the next year takes longer, involves uncertainty, and doesn’t give me the same immediate satisfaction.
During that conversation, I suggested that maybe I need goals from other people, too. We’re defining everyone else’s responsibilities. Mine need to be just as clear.
I need to be accountable for giving the team a direction they can plan around, making the decisions that belong with me, and expecting results from the people responsible for execution.
I’m still learning this. Knowing how to solve the problem doesn’t settle whether I should be the one solving it.
The company still needs my urgency and my standards. It also needs me to put that same energy into the future everyone else is waiting for me to clarify.
What’s the hardest thing for you to stop doing as your company grows? I’d love to hear from you. Reply directly to me at [email protected].
~ Erik

About
Erik J. Olson is the Founder and CEO of Proxa, where he builds and operates multiple marketing agencies focused on predictable, system-driven growth. He has scaled agencies across multiple markets by replacing fragmented execution with structured systems that drive consistent revenue. Erik is the author of Million Dollar Journey and writes The Business of Agency newsletter. He is building Proxa into a $100M platform with a planned private equity exit.
